Althouse: Dog...

May 16, 2008

Dog...

... in dappled sunlight.

22 comments:

Trooper York said...: Wow, the dogs in Wisconsin are so bored they don't even want to urinate for the camera!; 5/16/08, 6:10 PM
Trooper York said...: You know if the dog was smoking a post-coital cigarette, it could be a RH Hardin “art” photo.; 5/16/08, 6:13 PM
ricpic said...: You ain't nothin' but a hound dog
Cryin' all the time,
You ain't nothin' but a hound dog
Cryin' all the time,
You ain't never caught a rabbit
And you ain't no friend a mine.

Presley sang crochin' for cryin' which made it even better.; 5/16/08, 6:18 PM
Paddy O said...: dog, eh?

Interesting.; 5/16/08, 6:19 PM
ricpic said...: RH Hardin's comments and photos are strange...endearing...but strange.; 5/16/08, 6:20 PM
ricpic said...: Get up and hunt something, Blue, you worthless layabout.; 5/16/08, 6:22 PM
Trooper York said...: Hey that puppy is part white and part black. Is his middle name Hussien?; 5/16/08, 6:23 PM
Ann Althouse said...: That's a Brooklyn dog.; 5/16/08, 6:27 PM
ricpic said...: Pissing on a hydrant
Pissing on a tree
Pissing under God's green sky
I'm free I'm free I'm free!; 5/16/08, 6:30 PM
Trooper York said...: "That's a Brooklyn dog."

Oh, sorry my mistake. He's just high.; 5/16/08, 6:32 PM
Trooper York said...: He’s just sad because his father split and his mother left him with his grandmother to run away to Indonesia to marry a Shih Tzu. And his grandmother is a typical old white poodle who is afraid of chocolate labs. It’s a dog’s life I tell ya.; 5/16/08, 6:35 PM
ricpic said...: There's a great poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti, DOG, unfortunately screwed up with standard hippy hate cops crap, but otherwise a great poem about a dog trotting down the street and seeing what it sees. I can't do cut and paste but it's easy to find, just google Ferlinghe...; 5/16/08, 6:45 PM
rhhardin said...: Dappled lawn with roosters, dog, tennis ball and fragment of faux wool rug pic

May 13. No dappled pictures since then.; 5/16/08, 7:07 PM
LutherM said...: DOG

The dog trots freely in the street
and sees reality
and the things he sees
are bigger than himself
and the things he sees
are his reality
Drunks in doorways
Moons on trees
The dog trots freely thru the street
And the things he sees
Are smaller than himself
Fish on newsprint
Ants in holes
Chickens in Chinatown windows
their heads a block away
The dog trots freely in the street
and the things he smells
smell something like himself
The dog trots freely in the street
past puddles and babies
cats and cigars
poolrooms and policemen
He doesn’t hate cops
He merely has no use for them
and he goes past them
and past the dead cows hung up whole
in front of the San Francisco Meat Market
He would rather eat a tender cow
than a tough policeman
though either might do
and he goes past the Romeo Ravioli Factory
and past Coit’s tower
and past Congressman Doyle
He’s afraid of Coit’s tower
but he’s not afraid of Congressman Doyle
although what he hears is very discouraging
very depressing
very absurd
to a sad young dog like himself
to a serious dog like himself
But he has his own free world to live in
His own fleas to eat
He will not be muzzled
Congressman Doyle is just another
fire hydrant
to him
The dog trots freely in the street
and has his own dog’s life to live
and to think about
and to reflect upon
touching and tasting and testing everything
investigating everything
without benefit of perjury
a real realist
with a real tale to tell
and a real tail to tell it with
a real live
barking
democratic dog
engaged in real
free enterprise
with something to say
` about ontology
something to say
about reality
and how to see it
and how to hear it
with his head cocked sideways
at streetcorners
as if he is just about to have
his picture taken
for Victor Records
and looking
like a living questionmark
into the
great gramaphone
of puzzling existence
with its wondrous hollow horn
which always seems
just about to spout forth
some Victorious answer
to everything

From A Coney Island of the Mind
By Lawrence Ferlinghetti - 1958; 5/16/08, 7:12 PM
vbspurs said...: Come and listen to my story 'bout a man named Jed.; 5/16/08, 7:42 PM
Methadras said...: I don't think anyone can know the meaning of love unless they've had a dog.; 5/16/08, 8:08 PM
dannyboy said...: I love dogs. A little soy sauce, some garlic and a veggie stir fry. Once you get past the issue of the little bastard fetching your newspaper or frisbee they really do taste like chicken.

Now kimchi I don't like. Smells like your grandmas socks. I pretty much assumed after the main course of dog that most Korean cusine is based on a dare. Dog was tasty, but I passed on the fermented cole slaw.; 5/16/08, 10:01 PM
cardeblu said...: That photo immediately reminded me of this watercolor.; 5/17/08, 1:41 AM
Ann Althouse said...: The wood floor and the sunlight makes it seem rural, but it is an art gallery in Chelsea.; 5/17/08, 6:47 AM
Ann Althouse said...: No, it was raining the day we went to Chelsea.

It's an art gallery in Williamsburg.; 5/17/08, 6:47 AM
bearbee said...: Nice blending with shadow patterned floor.; 5/17/08, 8:12 AM
George M. Spencer said...: China Rebuffs Offers of Rescue Dogs

Unspeakable tragedy: Video; 5/17/08, 9:21 AM